


Forever Free

by toomanyunfinishedfics



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (Not for Royal just for Vanilla), Akira ends up on the Midnight Channel, Alternate Universe - No Metaverse (Persona 5), Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Bodyguard!Akira, Demonic Possession, Famous, Idol!Ryuji, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Lazy Sundays, M/M, Minor spoilers for Ryuji's confidant ranks, Pegoryu Week 2020, Persona 5 Protagonist is from Inaba, Role Reversal, Shadow - Freeform, Soulmates, Spoilers, awkward teens, p5 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyunfinishedfics/pseuds/toomanyunfinishedfics
Summary: The Chariot takes the Fool by the hand and leads the way, while the Fool follows the Chariot despite neither knowing where the road ahead will take them. So long as they are by each other's sides, nothing else in the world really matters.(A collection of 7 separate one-shots)
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 74
Kudos: 158





	1. Day One: Soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Pegoryu Week 2020](https://pegoryuweek.tumblr.com/post/621690659916627968/hey-everyone-great-news-the-prompts-for-pegoryu)! (Title loosely taken from a line in Throw Away Your Mask as well as Ryuji's confidant line ;u;)
> 
> Fun fact! These fics are literally the first thing that I've actually written in... about two months now adskfj everything that I've been posting lately was written in June or earlier lmao;; It's been a hectic, rough two months, so even if these fics for Pegoryu week probably aren't the best ~~and even if I cheated a bit for the free day prompt by using something I already had written adskfj~~ I'm relieved and proud that I managed to finish the prompts in time at all ;u; I really hope everyone enjoys them!! ^^

Ever since Akira was little, he could distantly remember dreaming of a dark-haired boy with a smile as bright as the sun itself.

The boy was nice, and fun to talk to, and always made Akira smile and laugh in ways that he never could when he was awake--because when he was awake, he knew better than to let his emotions show, he knew better than to speak out of turn.

He knew better than to let himself be happy. Normal kids could, but Akira was different. Akira’s parents didn’t want him wasting time on “trivial nonsense” that would only end up making them look bad.

At least he had the boy in his dreams, though. His dreams were quickly becoming his only escape, and the boy was the only person who cared enough to try and help him, even if it was just with a smile and a silly story.

Akira noticed a few things about the boy, though: first, he didn’t--couldn’t--tell Akira his name, which Akira thought was odd until he tried to speak his own name to the boy, only for the sound to die before it could leave his lips.

That was okay, though. They didn’t need names to get along with one another, anyway.

The second thing Akira noticed, though, was that the boy would occasionally appear in his dreams looking bruised up, his posture radiating anger and frustration while his eyes gleamed with unshed tears.

The boy always tried harder to smile on those nights, always laughed just a little too loudly, and he refused to budge whenever Akira tentatively questioned him about it.

So instead Akira tried harder on those nights too: tried to come up with jokes to tell, scrounged for silly stories even if they were just made up, until he saw the boy’s body relaxing and his smile softening into a more genuine expression--and each time Akira saw the shift in the boy’s expression, he felt his own heart responding to the sight by settling in contentment.

This is how the boy should be, he realized instinctively. This boy was someone bright, someone brimming with life and love and laughter.

Even without knowing his name, even without ever having met him outside of his dreams, Akira knew he would do anything to protect this boy and his smile full of sunshine.

* * *

As Akira grew older, he learned about soulmates: how two people were connected through their dreams, no matter how far apart they were from one another.

It was elating news, yet devastating.

Of course he was happy to know that the boy was  _ real _ and not just a figment of his ( _ lonely sad desperate _ ) imagination, but… he was also a  _ boy _ . Akira knew his parents would never approve if they discovered that his soulmate was a  _ boy _ and not one of the nice girls from the rich families that his parents were always trying to spend time with.

That aside, there was also the problem of having no way of tracking the boy down outside of his dreams regardless of whether or not his parents would allow them to be together. For all he knew, the boy could live all the way on the other side of Japan, and they would never get to meet face to face for their entire lives.

It was upsetting and discouraging, yet even when Akira brought it up in one of their shared dreams, the boy simply gave him a grin and a friendly slap on the back.

“ _ If we’re really soulmates, then we’ll find a way to meet up someday, right? The world couldn’t keep us apart if it tried. _ ”

Oh, how Akira wished he had even just a fraction of his soulmate’s optimism--yet even as the logical part of his mind wanted to point out all the flaws in such an overly-simplified declaration, Akira still couldn’t help his heart from swelling with warmth as he smiled and gave him a nod.

When he looked at Akira like that, with such a bright smile and so much confidence in his gaze, it was hard not to feel just a bit more optimistic for their future, too.

* * *

When Akira was fifteen, he experienced the worst pain in his life.

Worse than the hunger pains from not eating for days as his parents left him to fend for himself with no food or money, worse than the time he’d gotten pushed down the stairs at school and hit his head, worse than the constant, agonizing aching in his chest from being  _ too far _ from the one person in the world that he wanted to be with--

This pain was worse than any other that he’d ever experienced, because the pain wasn’t  _ his _ .

Only in extreme cases did a person feel their soulmate’s pain: it had to be an injury so deep, so grievous that it went beyond just a physical wound, branding itself onto a person’s very  _ soul _ , for it to be felt across that bond while both people were awake.

Akira felt nauseous as he half-ran, half-stumbled into the nearest bathroom, collapsing in front of the first toilet he could reach and immediately emptying his stomach in between gasps for breath, his head spinning and his body shaking with a cold sweat.

What the hell had  _ happened _ to his soulmate? Akira wasn’t even sure he wanted to know, if the pain was bad enough to have reached him this intensely--but at the same time, he couldn’t stand not knowing what had happened to the one person that he cared for with all his heart, the nameless boy with a smile full of sunshine.

For a moment, Akira feared he might never see that smile again, and the thought alone was enough to bring with it another wave of nausea.

No, he couldn’t think like that. His soulmate was still alive, he could feel it: he was hurt, but he was still  _ alive _ , and that’s what was important right now.

He almost wished that he could just pass out, could reach out to his soulmate in his unconscious state and see him and speak with him and hold him… but he knew that wouldn’t work unless they were both asleep, and there was no guarantee that his soulmate was unconscious right now.

Akira prayed that he was, though.  _ God _ , he prayed his soulmate wasn’t awake and suffering through this agonizing pain right now. If Akira was feeling this bad just from the phantom pains, then he could only imagine how much his soulmate was suffering from the actual, physical injury.

It took a few more minutes, but Akira finally managed to regain control of his breathing, his nausea fading as the pain began to numb--which he could only hope meant that his soulmate’s injury was being treated.

Akira was beyond frustrated with his own powerlessness, his own inability to find his soulmate and be by his side when he needed him most… but he reassured himself with the thought that even if he couldn’t physically be by his soulmate’s side, he would support him as much as he possibly could in their dreams.

* * *

It took three nights before Akira finally saw his soulmate again.

Apparently his soulmate’s sleep, induced by the pain and whatever drugs he’d been administered, had been so deep that he hadn’t been in any shape to dream--not that Akira cared about that at the moment.

All he cared about right now was trying to fix the broken smile on his soulmate’s face, matching the broken leg that carried over even in their shared unconscious state.

“Hey,” his soulmate greeted, a far cry from his usual cheerful exuberance. “Sorry, I know it’s been a while. You’ve prolly been worried as hell, huh?”

Akira could say yes--yes, he’d been worried about his soulmate these past few days, he’d been worried ever since his soulmate entered high school and joined the track team, he’d been worried ever since  _ meeting _ him because he was the most important person in Akira’s life and Akira didn’t want to lose him--but instead he forced a small smile of his own.

“I missed you,” he replied instead, holding his soulmate’s gaze and carefully moving closer to him.

As soon as Akira was close enough, he gently pulled his soulmate into his arms--and that was all it took for the boy's expression and composure to both crumble as he clung to Akira in return.

The boy cried, and cried, and cried, until he had no tears left to shed, and even then his body continued to shake as he held onto Akira like he was his only lifeline.

It took all of Akira’s self-control to not break down and cry along with him.

* * *

A week later, his soulmate appeared in their shared dreams with blond hair instead of black.

It was a jarring sight, yet somehow the color suited him: it was bright like sunshine, just like the smiles that Akira was doing his best to coax back out of him bit by bit.

Plus, it made his soulmate’s blush that much more apparent when Akira confessed his reasoning for liking the new hair color, even though they both knew that his reasons for dyeing his hair had been less than pleasant.

It was nice, being able to take something with a negative connotation and turn it into something positive for his soulmate--and it was even better when Akira finally got to see a glimpse of the genuine grin that he loved and missed so much in response.

* * *

Weeks passed into months, before the universe decided to have a go at ruining Akira’s life, as if hurting his soulmate hadn’t been bad enough.

Being accused of a crime that he hadn’t even committed had hurt, but the cold apathy from his parents as they shipped him off to Tokyo hurt even more--which was almost laughable, really, considering how he’d never received anything more than apathy or anger from either of his parents for his entire life. Why had he thought for even just a moment that maybe this time would be different?

His soulmate had been the only person to show any sort of reaction towards the news that wasn’t blaming him in some way, and it was a relief to know that  _ someone _ in the world was on his side. Honestly, with how everyone was treating him like a criminal, Akira himself was beginning to doubt whether or not he’d actually committed the crime that he’d been accused of.

“It’s all bullshit,” his soulmate told him assuredly, his expression fiercely protective in a way that set Akira’s heart at ease as much as it prompted a light blush to color his cheeks. “Don’t listen to any of them, alright? You didn’t do nothing wrong.”

Akira didn’t realize just how badly he needed to hear those words until he found himself with his face buried in his soulmate’s shoulder, his soulmate’s arms holding him in a tight hug as Akira silently wept against him, his mind a mess of grief, rage, and frustration--and above all else,  _ relief _ .

If there had to be one person in the entire world who shared in his outrage over the injustice that he had fallen victim to, Akira was so incredibly glad it was him.

* * *

Though Akira knew firsthand of the existence of soulmates, believing in fate was a whole other matter.

Yet there was no other explanation for the blond-haired boy from his dreams standing right in front of him, in broad daylight, looking just as stunned as Akira himself was.

How was this possible? Even if Akira had known that his soulmate was somewhere in Tokyo--which he  _ hadn’t _ , since the stupid information block that kept them from giving their names prevented either of them from exchanging any sort of personal information through their dreams--it was still a huge city with a ton of people, and the fact that he’d somehow managed to unintentionally find his soulmate (or for his soulmate to unintentionally find  _ him _ , rather) was nothing short of a miracle.

A miracle, or fate. They  _ were _ soulmates, so maybe they were destined to run into each other like this after all?

Regardless, it was a shock to finally be able to see his soulmate in person--and apparently it was just as much of a shock for the blond-haired boy as well, since he continued to stare at Akira with a wide-eyed look of awe that had Akira lightly blushing as soon as he became aware of it.

Akira was the first to snap out of it as he reached out, tentatively taking his soulmate’s hand in his own and smiling as the blond-haired boy jumped slightly in response with a bright blush of his own.

“Akira,” Akira greeted with a smile, relief swelling his heart as his name left his lips without any issues. “My name’s Akira Kurusu.”

The blond-haired boy blinked in surprise before a wide grin spread across his face.

“My name’s Ryuji Sakamoto,” he replied, wasting no time in pulling Akira into a hug. “Akira… I’m so glad to see you.”

Akira’s heart felt like it was seconds away from bursting with love and joy upon hearing his soulmate-- _ Ryuji _ \--saying his name aloud, and he returned the hug without a single moment of hesitance.

“I’m glad to finally see you too, Ryuji,” Akira replied, his smile widening as he heard Ryuji’s slight intake of breath in response to Akira saying his name.

What was supposed to be a miserable year away from home was already turning into the best time of Akira’s life, now that he had Ryuji by his side--and as the two of them began to make their way towards Shujin, Akira got the feeling that this was only the beginning of what this year had in store for them both.


	2. Day Two: Famous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter one, since I was honestly struggling to come up with an idea for what to write for this one;; I ended up going with an Idol!Ryuji & Bodyguard!Akira AU, and honestly I considered switching the roles at first but I felt like Ryuji would be the obvious bodyguard choice, so I wanted to try something a little different instead lol

Sometimes, being an idol wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Sure, the fame was awesome--people knew his face, they cheered his name, they asked for autographs and handshakes and selfies--and the thrill of bouncing around on stage, singing and dancing his heart out while the audience shout-sang along, still hadn’t worn out despite having began his career a good few years ago already, but… well, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, unfortunately. There was a lot of stress, a lot of pressure, a lot of rules… and a lot of fans that really,  _ really _ didn’t understand boundaries.

Thankfully, Ryuji’s fanbase was surprisingly tame--at least compared to the horror stories he’d heard from some older idols in the industry, like Rise and Kanami--but “tame” didn’t mean “perfect”, as he found out the hard way the first time a more  _ intense _ fan had tried to force their way into his dressing room after one of his live performances.

From that moment on, it became evident that Ryuji had reached the point of needing a personal bodyguard, even if Ryuji insisted that he’d been able to handle himself just fine (which he  _ had _ : no one had gotten hurt, himself included, and the fan had been escorted away by the venue guards once they heard the commotion, so all-in-all Ryuji thought he’d dealt with the matter pretty damn well). He seriously didn’t need someone hovering around him twenty-four-seven--it was already bad enough as it was having his manager calling him at all hours and scheduling his days down to when he could take  _ bathroom breaks _ ; how was he supposed to deal with having  _ another _ person breathing down his neck?

Of course, he couldn’t exactly say that to his manager, which left him with no choice but to suck it up and brace himself for whatever overprotective stick in the mud the company chose for him.

* * *

Ryuji knew he was on thin ice, with how many bodyguards he went through in such a short amount of time, but he couldn’t help it--all of them just rubbed him the wrong way; it wasn’t  _ his _ fault that he couldn’t deal with being around them.

(Okay, so  _ maybe _ he was being a bit more difficult than normal, and  _ maybe _ it was on purpose, but it was their fault in the first place for not even trying to get along with him! All they did was either quietly follow him around or reprimand him every other minute like he was a child.)

The newest one--Akira Kurusu--though… well, he wasn’t too bad, at least compared to the other ones.

Akira was around Ryuji’s age, which was already a plus, and while he was a bit quiet and stoic in public, he had an actual  _ personality _ when it was just the two of them--and he had a sense of humor too, which was a  _ huge _ plus.

If all of that hadn’t already sold Ryuji, though, then seeing him in action sure as hell did the trick.

In all the time that Ryuji had endured going through bodyguard after bodyguard (which really wasn’t  _ that _ long, maybe a few months at the most, but it still felt like much longer), he hadn’t actually  _ needed _ one until now, when a fan had him cornered backstage with a knife and an off-kilter look in their eyes.

At least the fan that he’d handled on his own hadn’t been armed, but this? This wasn’t something he was trained to handle, this wasn’t something  _ any _ normal person was trained to handle.

Except, of course, for a bodyguard.

Ryuji had admittedly been skeptical of whether or not his bodyguard could actually do his job--after all, the other bodyguards had been much larger in both height and build than Akira, who looked more like he could be an idol himself with his slim figure and pretty face--but the way he swiftly disarmed the fan, the way he pinned them down, the smug smirk on his face as the fan struggled in vain to free themselves from his iron grip….

Wow. Just…  _ wow _ .

From beginning to end, Akira had the entire situation under control without so much as breaking a sweat--which was more than Ryuji could say about himself, considering how he’d been nervously sweating when the fan had cornered him, and then when Akira had started doing his job… well, he found himself sweating for a completely different reason, the entire room feeling like the inside of an oven.

Or maybe it was just him.

Yeah, actually, it was probably just him.

Thankfully, his stunned stupor was easily explained away by having just been practically held at knifepoint--though judging from the slight smirk that lingered on Akira’s face as he eyed Ryuji’s flushed cheeks, he had a feeling that he wasn’t being as subtle about his sudden attraction as he’d hoped.

Though considering how Akira seemed more intrigued than bothered… well, Ryuji would save that thought for a later time.

For now, all his flatlining brain could manage--aside from thanking Akira for helping him--was the simple, absent thought of how maybe, just maybe, having a personal bodyguard around wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	3. Day Three: Lazy Sundays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly liked how this one came out, especially considering how I just free-wrote it without any specific ideas in mind lmao;;

You would think, after going months without seeing each other, that Ryuji would have been excited to drag Akira all around Tokyo now that he was finally back for Golden Week.

Yet here they were instead, lounging in the attic of LeBlanc side by side on the floor reading manga, like nothing had even changed.

It was comforting, in a way: that even with all the distance between them, even with the passage of time that kept them apart, they were still able to pick up right where they left off as if the last time they had seen one another had been just a day ago, rather than a few months.

Still…

Ryuji lightly nudged Akira’s foot with his own, feeling too lazy (and too comfortable) to move much more than that.

“You  _ sure _ you just wanna hang out here?” Ryuji asked, for what felt to be the millionth time. It was probably actually only the third, or maybe the fourth, but he was pretty sure his skepticism was justified when he knew Akira could have been spending this whole day out and about, going all around Tokyo to visit all of the other people that he’d created bonds with.

Akira glanced over at him, wry amusement tingeing his tone as he replied, “Does it look like I want to move?”

As if to prove his point, Akira leaned the entirety of his weight against Ryuji, causing Ryuji to yelp as he dropped his manga and nearly toppled over onto his side.

“You ass,” Ryuji replied with exasperated fondness, shoving Akira off of him just enough to straighten back up before going right back to their original position, with not an inch of space between them.

(It was a position that had always felt so normal, so  _ right _ , that Ryuji never questioned it--not when he’d first swung an arm around Akira’s shoulders a whole year ago and Akira had leaned into him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and not now, when it was just as regular as breathing to slot himself in by Akira’s side whenever they were together.)

“I meant, did you wanna like… go somewhere? Do something? If you wanna hang out with the rest of the team too, I’m sure they’d all drop what they’re doing ‘n’ come over--”

Akira rolled his eyes slightly, a hint of a smile on his face as he asked, “Do  _ you _ want everyone to come over?”

Ryuji’s face briefly scrunched up at the thought of anyone joining them--even if he loved his friends, there was still a small, selfish part of him that didn’t want to share Akira with anyone else now that they finally had some time to themselves--but he still forced himself to reply, “If you do, then sure. I mean, you’re the one visiting for the week, not me.”

“And if I want to just spend time relaxing with my best friend?”

Akira’s response took a moment for Ryuji’s mind to process--but as soon as it did, Ryuji hastily turned away from Akira’s satisfied smile, his cheeks burning and a pleased grin of his own tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I was just making sure, you don’t gotta get all sappy on me,” Ryuji replied dryly, grabbing his manga from where he’d dropped it and idly flipping through the pages to find the part he was up to.

Akira hummed softly, but gave no other reply beyond making himself comfortable against Ryuji and returning his attention to the manga in his own hands.

Which thankfully gave Ryuji just enough of a break to get his blush to fade before Akira’s voice broke the silence between them, his words a soft enough murmur that Ryuji almost thought he imagined it for a moment.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now. My place is right next to you, after all.”

Ryuji knew he should probably feel embarrassed--and part of him was--but he couldn’t help the sheepish yet genuine smile that quickly worked its way back onto his face.

“You still remember that?”

“Of course I do,” Akira replied with such certainty that Ryuji felt, if only for a moment, like his words from that day really did have some sort of profound affect on Akira’s life, instead of just being one of the many embarrassing things Ryuji had blurted out around Akira in a clumsy attempt to try and put his complicated feelings into words.

“Cool,” was all Ryuji’s brain managed to come up with in response, but apparently it was enough for Akira--or perhaps he could just read between the lines, could see what Ryuji wasn’t able to say just like he always did--because he merely gave Ryuji another small, sincere smile as he leaned his head against Ryuji’s shoulder, turning his gaze down to the manga in Ryuji’s hands to read along with him.

“Dude, did you even finish the one you were reading yet?” Ryuji asked wryly.

“Yours looks more interesting.”

Ryuji rolled his eyes slightly, but offered no complaints--on the contrary, he shifted a bit so he could slip an arm around Akira, making it easier for him to lean in close so he could read the pages more easily.

Akira leaned into the one-armed embrace without batting an eye, and Ryuji felt something inside his mind (his  _ heart _ ) settle in contentment in response.

Of course he knew that Akira was being honest when he said there wasn’t anywhere in the world he would rather be, but actions had always left more of an impact than words for Ryuji: only when the realization sunk in, that Akira really was content to spend a whole day of his limited time back in Tokyo with  _ him _ and no one else, did Ryuji finally allow himself to accept it as an undeniable truth and relax against Akira in response, simply enjoying the moment as they slowly flipped through the pages of the manga volume between them.

After all, it didn’t matter that they weren’t going anywhere or doing anything important. Ryuji didn’t have to drag Akira all around Tokyo to enjoy their time together--so long as he was by Akira’s side, there was nowhere else in the world that he would rather be.


	4. Day Four: Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even tell if this feels like a role-reversal but this was all my brain could come up with, hopefully it's close enough lmao;;

Ryuji was tired.

Not physically, at least (he probably got more sleep than was healthy, considering how he didn’t exactly have much else to do), but mentally and emotionally: after letting out his indignant rage and frustration towards Kamoshida in one last burst, like a supernova signalling the end of his life as he knew it, his leg had been broken, the track team disbanded, his reputation and future ruined, and--to top it all off--Kamoshida was still walking around the school with his head held high like he was the king of his own castle.

What else was there to do after that point but give up?

He should have known better, he should have had the fight long since beaten out of him by his father, and yet he’d still foolishly let Kamoshida rile him up to the point of physically swinging out at him.

Even if his fist hadn’t even connected with Kamoshida’s smug face, he’d still proven Kamoshida right in the end. He was no better than his deadbeat father--and now, with the one thing that could possibly get him into college having been forcefully and brutally stripped away from him, he really would never amount to anything just as Kamoshida said.

There was nothing left for Ryuji to do but to keep his head down, keep his big mouth shut, and survive. If not for his own sake, then for the sake of his poor mother, who had more of a burden put onto her shoulders than ever before because of Ryuji’s actions.

If fighting back against fucked up, corrupt adults was just going to make him and his mother suffer, while bastards like his father and Kamoshida got to walk off scot-free, then… it just wasn’t worth it. She was the only good thing left in his life, and he had to do what little he could to protect her, or at least to make up for all of the damage he’d caused.

And so, life continued on, the whispers stinging his ears and the heated gazes burning the back of his head as he slunk through the halls of Shujin, never meeting anyone’s gaze nor opening his mouth to say a single word.

Go to school, go home, try to study, sleep, repeat. That’s all he had to do. Just go to school, keep his head down, go home, try and do what little he could to raise his pathetic grades enough to graduate high school, occasionally remember to eat something if he could muster up the energy, pass out in depressed exhaustion, and drag himself out of bed the next morning to repeat the cycle.

He could do it. For her, and for all she’d done for him for his entire life--and was still doing for him, working two jobs just to keep a roof over his head--he had no choice  _ but _ to do it, no matter what.

Ryuji swore he was going to get through the rest of his high school life without getting involved in any more trouble, especially trouble involving Kamoshida.

* * *

That vow lasted approximately six months before his entire world was turned on its head.

As if getting dragged into some demonic world with a delinquent transfer student wasn’t bad enough, he had to deal with the hellish sight of Kamoshida in nothing but a cape and a  _ speedo _ acting like he was literally a king.

Oh, and let’s not forget the part where he and the transfer student were  _ trapped in a dungeon cell about to be executed _ .

Of course, Kamoshida came straight for him first--which was fine, really. Better him than the new kid, and maybe the transfer student could even use this opportunity to escape, even if it meant being left behind yet again--

“Let go of him.”

The sharp command silenced any other noise in the room, the words carrying the weight of an unspoken threat even as the transfer student remained trapped against the wall by the guards’ spears.

Ryuji couldn’t understand why the transfer student wasn’t trying to break free, why he wasn’t trying to toss him to the wolves and leave him behind to save himself just like everyone else--

To both Ryuji’s dread and relief, Kamoshida turned away from him to face the transfer student, who gave a smirk in response to both Kamoshida’s ire and Ryuji’s silently bewildered gaze.

Was this guy… trying to protect him? Did he realize that Ryuji had no intentions of fighting back to protect himself?

Why?

This person was a stranger, he didn’t even  _ know _ Ryuji, and yet he was putting himself in danger to keep Kamoshida’s focus off of him.

**_Are you just going to sit and watch?_ **

Ryuji flinched, both from the sound of the first blow that Kamoshida inflicted on the transfer student, and from the sudden voice ringing out in his head, reverberating through his very being and causing him to tremble uncontrollably.

**_Are you going to let him steal away the life of that kid, just like he stole yours?_ **

That’s right--Kamoshida had every intention of killing them both here, didn’t he?

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want this stranger--the first person to show an ounce of concern towards him aside from his own mother--to die either.

Fuck this.  _ Fuck. This. _

What good had keeping his head down done for him, in the end? He still ended up here, at Kamoshida’s mercy, dragging another uninvolved party into his mess just like with the track team.

That had to mean that the root of the problem wasn’t him, but  _ Kamoshida _ , right?

**_Looks like you’re finally starting to get it. About time, I was tired of waiting._ **

Ryuji let out a choked cry of pain as he reached up to grip his head, hardly even aware of the guards moving to restrain him as he began to writhe in agony.

**_You seek power, correct? Then let us form a pact._ **

Ryuji’s breaths came in heaving gasps, his fingers unconsciously digging into his scalp as if trying to tear the pain straight out of his head.

**_Since your name has been disgraced already, why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc? The “other you” who exists within desires it thus…_ **

Despite the searing agony he was in, Ryuji couldn’t help but give a weak grin at that.

Whatever this voice was, it was right: why bother trying to keep up the act any longer? Pretending to be a quiet, obedient student didn’t do anything to stop the whispers, the rumors, the social ostracization--and yeah, maybe fighting back only got him into more trouble before, but now?

Now it was different. He wasn’t just fighting back for his own sake--now he was going to  _ fuck Kamoshida’s shit up _ for trying to kill the one person who actually gave enough of a damn about him to even attempt to give him a moment’s reprieve from Kamoshida’s ruthless beating.

**_I am thou, thou art I…_ **

**_There is no turning back…_ **

**_The skull of rebellion is your flag henceforth!_ **

“I hear ya…,” Ryuji breathed out, a mad grin stretching across his face as he instinctively reached up, gripping the mask that was melded to his skin and digging his fingers in.

No more running, no more hiding, and  _ no more masks _ .

With a scream, Ryuji tore the skull-shaped mask off of his face, a burst of power flooding the room. The smell of ozone filled the air as electricity crackled through every last inch of the dungeon cell, harmlessly brushing past the transfer student, who stared up at Ryuji in stunned awe.

Ryuji didn’t even have to look behind him to feel  _ whatever _ had burst out of him hovering behind him--not when he could see Kamoshida’s gaze staring up over his shoulder in clear terror.

The sight made Ryuji’s grin widen.

Even as Kamoshida scrambled to call for his guards, and even when said guards abruptly changed form, Ryuji’s grin didn’t falter for one second.

It was payback time.

“Blast ‘em away,  _ Captain Kidd! _ ”


	5. Day Five: Awkward Teens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's more fun than writing Ryuji as a flustered disaster? Writing max charm!Akira as a flustered disaster over oblivious!Ryuji, of course lmao

Akira, in his own humble opinion, was a pretty charming person: he’d managed to catch the eye of almost all of the girls in their group to varying degrees; he could sweet-talk his way through any conversation, be it with adults in the real world or Shadows in the Metaverse; and he’d even managed to (somewhat) build his reputation up from rock bottom over the course of the past few months to something close to decent, after Kamoshida had ruined his standing in the school from day one.

So how was it that whenever he was around Ryuji-- _ Ryuji _ , of all people!--he felt like a bumbling mess?

That wasn’t to say that he felt  _ uncomfortable _ around Ryuji, of course. On the contrary, when he was with Ryuji he honestly felt more at ease, more like  _ himself _ , than he ever did around anyone else.

How had Ryuji put it? Oh, yes.

He made him feel  _ free _ .

Akira had been too blindsided by the confession to properly respond at the time--another display of Ryuji completely wiping away all of the charm and poise that Akira had painstakingly built up with just a few clumsy yet heartfelt words and a sincere smile to match--but that didn’t mean he felt any different: even during the times that he found himself fumbling for his usual charisma and composure, Akira still never felt more  _ free _ than he did when he was by Ryuji’s side, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.

Or maybe that was exactly  _ why _ he felt so free--he didn’t have to watch what he said, or what he did, or act in any special way to feel like he still belonged with Ryuji.

Ryuji was constantly seeing him at both his best and his worst: he’d seen him with his hair meticulously styled and his skincare perfect, and seen him rolling out of bed half-asleep with his hair looking like a bird’s nest and bits of dried drool on the corner of his mouth; he’d seen him eloquently negotiating with Shadows and fighting with seamless grace, and seen him stumbling over his words and nearly tripping down the stairs at LeBlanc; he’d seen him discussing complicated plans with Makoto and navigation details with Futaba, and seen him agree to do the stupidest things on dares just because he could--

And each and every time, Ryuji had reacted with the same look of fond amusement, as if both sides of Akira were just one in the same.

To Akira, there was nothing that could encapsulate the feeling of  _ freedom _ more than that.

Now if only expressing that feeling to Ryuji wasn’t so ridiculously difficult.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying--it was just that all of his attempts either kept flying over Ryuji’s head, or just failing in such a spectacular manner that Akira would probably be impressed if he wasn’t so busy resisting the urge to bury his face in a pillow and scream.

Telling Ryuji straight out was a no-go, unfortunately: the closest he’d managed to come to a coherent confession was returning Ryuji’s sentiment about feeling free around him, which--while pleasing Ryuji and flattering him that Akira had remembered his comment--didn’t  _ entirely _ convey the heart-pounding, nerve-wracking, giddy feelings that Akira was increasingly beginning to experience in Ryuji’s company.

Taking Ryuji out for food or to hang out was an utter failure, too: the two of them were just so comfortable around each other and so used to spending time with one another that there wasn’t anything  _ special _ about it.

Or, no, that wasn’t true. Of course it was special, hanging out with Ryuji was  _ always _ special to Akira--but it wasn’t  _ special _ -special. Like  _ this-could-be-a-date-if-you’re-okay-with-that _ -special.

How did all of those books Akira read to help raise his charisma make this stuff sound so easy? There was no hidden wisdom waiting for him at the bathhouse to help the situation either, no matter how much he frequented it to make himself more charming.

To be fair, Akira didn’t exactly have any practical experience with trying to date someone, and maybe it was a lost cause trying to get the attention of a guy who was constantly proclaiming his desire to have a girlfriend, but… well, Akira would at least like to think that he wasn’t misreading the small signs that Ryuji occasionally gave him: hints that he’d drop in the form of an arm lingering around his shoulders for a bit too long, or a smile that was a bit too excited whenever they could spend time just the two of them, or even just the constant lack of physical space, to the point where Akira was no longer even surprised when they ended up half-cuddling on Akira’s far-too-small bed while reading manga and laughing with one another.

Or maybe all of that was just normal for best friends? It was hard to say when he’d never had a friendship like what he had with Ryuji.

Regardless, it was a small blessing that his clumsy attempts at trying to pursue a relationship with Ryuji hadn’t made things awkward between them in the slightest--even if it meant that Ryuji was still oblivious to what he was unintentionally doing to Akira’s poor heart, he would gladly take that over Ryuji avoiding him.

There was still plenty of time to figure out the best way to go about trying to confess to his best friend. So long as they could continue feeling free by each other’s sides, then for now, that was more than enough for Akira.


	6. Day Six: Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, funny story about this prompt: I ended up struggling the most with coming up with an idea for this one, because I wanted to do shadow!Akira originally, except... I already used my shadow!Akira idea for Pegoryu week in 2019, and the only reason I used _that_ idea last year was to try and fit the Demon prompt, since I uh... used my demon!Akira idea for the Pegoryu week in 2018 asdfkj
> 
> Even funnier story, this ironically ended up being the longest of the prompts that I wrote for Pegoryu week this year despite how much I was initially struggling with coming up with an idea for it lmao;; It's an Akira is from Inaba fic, post-P5 (so there are some minor spoilers mentioned in passing), and the basic idea is "Akira ends up on the Midnight Channel", but hopefully it will read well enough and make enough sense even if anyone hasn't played/watched P4 ;u;

Being back home in Inaba was… about as pleasant as Akira had expected it to be.

Which is to say, not at all.

Though his record had been cleared and the charges against him lifted, unfortunately it was much harder to erase the horrible reputation that he’d unintentionally obtained the second he’d gotten sent away--a reputation that had only grown worse throughout the entirety of his year away in Tokyo, spreading like wildfire from one bitter mouth to another as the quiet little town latched onto its newest source of excitement.

It was almost enough to make Akira laugh, that his first thought upon entering Yasogami and hearing the whispers in the hallways was a vivid flashback to his time at Shujin, followed by a sarcastic  _ ah, home sweet home _ .

At least at Shujin, they had the excuse of Akira being a complete stranger. Pretty much everyone attending Yasogami had known Akira since elementary school or even earlier, though, and yet they were still treating him like an outsider, like he was some sort of  _ monster _ that might snap on them and pull out a knife or a gun at any given moment.

Well, whatever. He already knew that this wasn’t his home anymore; all he had to do was survive his final year of high school, and the second his diploma was in his hand, he was packing up every last scrap of his meager belongings and getting on the first train back to Tokyo.

There was nothing left for him in Inaba, after all. Any so-called “friends” had long since shunned him, and his own parents barely even glanced in his direction, on the few occasions that they were actually home.

Having Morgana with him was probably the only thing keeping Akira from falling back into the depressive slump that had claimed him at the beginning of last year, when the courts had ruled against him and no one had even cared enough to listen to his pleas, but Akira was finding that he was beginning to grow numb to even Morgana’s attempts at cheering him up, especially since the cat could only stay cooped up by Akira’s side for so long before needing some space and fresh air.

Which is how Akira found himself listlessly wandering Junes by his lonesome, for lack of anything better to do. It was getting increasingly difficult to leave his house when he knew all that was waiting for him were familiar faces from his childhood looking at him in undisguised wariness and contempt, but staying holed up in his room making infiltration tools and reading wasn’t doing him much good either. He needed fresh air, he needed sunlight, he needed  _ people _ , he needed--

Well. He probably wouldn’t ever get what he  _ actually _ needed, but that was fine. It didn’t really matter, anyway. If his new role was to be the source of entertainment for everyone, to stand on center stage and have all of their eyes on him, then… it’s not like it was the first time he had to endure this position, so he knew he could handle it. It was nothing new. It was fine.

Everything was fine.

Which is what he continued to tell himself, until he found his feet taking him to a specific area of the store, his Personas growing restless and agitated in the back of his mind the closer he got to the electronics section.

It was completely devoid of people, unlike the rest of the store--understandably so, considering the price tags on most of these televisions, not to mention how televisions weren’t exactly something that people bought as regularly as groceries or clothes--but instead of easing Akira’s mind, it just raised his guard even more than it already was.

Why was he here? What were his Personas trying to tell him, and why were they acting up at all when the Metaverse was gone?

**_Thy desire is to be seen, is it not?_ **

Akira winced,  _ AkiraJokerArsèneSatanael _ ’s voice ringing out in his mind, reverberating throughout his entire body as he gripped his head in pain.

**_Thy desire is to be heard, is it not?_ **

Akira’s body swayed slightly as he was hit with a sudden rush of vertigo, his shoulder hitting against one of the large television screens.

Or at least, hitting against what was  _ supposed _ to be a television screen. Television screens weren’t supposed to ripple like water, were they?

**_Take to the stage, Trickster, and let all bare witness to the truth of thine self!_ **

With nothing to catch himself on as he lost his balance, Akira fell backwards through the screen, the television swallowing him whole and leaving behind no trace of his existence.

* * *

There was a world inside of the television.

There was an entire  _ world _ inside of the television, and moreover, it was a world teeming with what Akira could only assume were either sentient lumps of sludge, or--more likely--Shadows.

At least they were all fleeing from him. That was one small blessing in what was looking to be an increasingly-dismal situation.

The world looked oddly serene in contrast to the presence of the Shadows: there were grassy mountains filled with trees and fields full of flowers, gurgling rivers and gorgeous lakes, a bright blue sky and a gentle breeze….

Everything about it set Akira on edge.

It was too  _ peaceful _ .

Every time he’d encountered Shadows, it was within the depths of someone’s distorted heart--and while there were some palaces that had incredible scenery, in the end there was still a palpable danger in the form of their Metaverse outfits appearing and their Personas hovering at the forefront of their mind, just waiting to be called forth into battle.

Yet here, not only was his Joker outfit--and the weapons and protection it provided--not appearing, but his Personas were also in the furthest recesses of his mind, refusing to respond to his call no matter how hard he tried.

(Then there was the matter of not being able to feel Satanael at  _ all _ , which… probably should have been more concerning than it was, except for the fact that Akira had long since gotten used to Arsène’s voice not being present after swapping him out for more powerful Personas.)

(He wasn’t sure what it said about him, that he’d cast aside his “true” self so easily in favor of attaining power for the sake of other people, but now was neither the time nor the place for introspection.)

Unable to find any obvious exits, and unwilling to risk doing anything extreme in hopes that  _ maybe _ it would take him home--jumping into the lake was the first thing that came to mind, and then there was that weird stack of TVs off to the corner that looked way too conspicuous, like it was either the most obvious choice or some sort of trap--Akira instead decided to explore the area in hopes that maybe he would stumble into either the end limit of this weird not-Metaverse world, or (more likely, knowing his track record) some sort of area that would recognize him as a threat and grant him access to his weapons and Personas to defend himself with.

He picked a direction at random and began to walk, keeping his guard up and his eyes peeled for any sort of clue on how to escape from this insidious paradise.

A chill ran down his spine as the area around him began to change the deeper in he walked--but at least it was proof that he was right to be wary of the utopian scenery, as it shifted to a more ominous forest. The sky, once bright and blue, was now almost pitch black, and Akira was grateful that his Third Eye was still working otherwise he would have been walking into trees (or worse, into Shadows) as he navigated towards the speck of light that he could see in the distance.

Was that a building? No, now that he was getting closer, Akira could just barely make out the shape of a large tent through the trees, accompanied by cheerful music that sent a shiver of foreboding dread down his spine.

Every last part of him was screaming to get away from this place before it was too late--and yet as if in a trance, he found himself continuing onward, an unwilling passenger in his own body as he continued to move step by agonizing step towards the light.

* * *

It had been a full day since Akira last responded to Ryuji’s texts, and it was driving Ryuji insane.

Not that he expected Akira to be glued to his phone at all hours to respond to him, of course, but… lately, he found himself getting the feeling like something wasn’t right with Akira--which was ridiculous, he  _ knew _ it was ridiculous, if there was something wrong then he was sure that Akira would’ve come to at least  _ one _ member of their group to talk about it, if not him.

Yet no one else mentioned feeling anything off about Akira, and Akira himself never talked about anything bothering him, which made it that much more difficult to bring the subject up.

Now, however, Ryuji was regretting keeping his big mouth shut for once.

Maybe he was just imagining things, or just making up excuses, but not hearing back from Akira for a full twenty-four hours was the last push Ryuji needed to throw together an overnight bag and (upon getting permission from his mother, who agreed on the condition that Ryuji would call her immediately after he arrived) catch the first train in what would be a long series of transfers to take him all the way to the small town of Inaba.

He’d wanted to properly visit Akira’s hometown, having only gotten a quick glimpse of it after the group drove Akira home a few months ago, but he never imagined his first visit would be like this.

Ryuji sincerely hoped that the feeling in the pit of his stomach was just in his imagination, and that Akira was just busy or forgot to charge his phone or broke his phone being a dumbass and doing stupid stunts like the showoff that he was. He would gladly take Akira laughing at him for worrying too much and overthinking things if it meant confirming with his own two eyes and his own two hands that Akira was  _ okay _ .

It was only when he stepped foot off of the train in Inaba that Ryuji belatedly realized he didn’t remember how to get to Akira’s house, much to his chagrin--and of course, Akira still wasn’t responding to his texts (wasn’t even  _ reading _ his texts), which left Ryuji with no choice but to wander around and ask anyone he could find for some directions.

Unfortunately, every time he tried to approach someone--no matter how big or disarming of a smile he wore--they would all scatter like rats before he could so much as open his mouth.

Was this seriously the kind of shitty town that Akira was dealing with? Ryuji wanted to be angry, but all he could muster up was sympathy towards Akira, along with a growing concern.

“You lookin’ for something, or just trying to obstruct business?”

Ryuji snapped out of his thoughts as, for the first time since he stepped foot into town, he was actually approached by someone instead of unintentionally scaring them off--and when the guy’s words registered in Ryuji’s mind, he belatedly realized that said guy had come out of the store that Ryuji had been spacing out in front of.

“My bad, I was just a bit lost,” Ryuji replied sheepishly, feeling relieved when the guy showed no signs of running off. “You, uh… wouldn’t happen to know where Akira Kurusu lives, would you? I was trying to find his house, but I don’t have an address, and he’s not picking up his phone….”

“Oh, the Kurusu kid? Yeah, you’re not too far from his place, actually,” the guy responded--and apparently Ryuji’s relief was clear as day on his face, since he grinned and added, “Guessing you tried asking around, ‘n’ no one would give you the time of day?”

“That obvious, huh?” Ryuji replied with a weak laugh, before wryly adding, “Guess they’ve never seen a city kid with bleached hair?”

The guy let out a snort of laughter. “Nah, they’ve seen plenty ‘a that--though I wasn’t exactly from the city.”

Ryuji did a double-take as his words sunk in, prompting a more genuine bark of laughter.

“Yeah, I know, I don’t really look it right now. Kinda got past the whole ‘blond punk’ phase, but back then everyone used to steer clear of me too.” He rubbed the back of his neck with a disgruntled frown as he added, “A small town like this doesn’t really take too well to anything new or different, y’know? So, uh… how do I say this… just-- if you’re friends with that Kurusu kid, look after him, okay? He’s been getting pretty much the same treatment since he got back, even though the kid was born ‘n’ raised here.”

“I knew it…,” Ryuji breathed out, his hands clenching into fists at his sides in frustration. “Damn it Akira, why didn’t you say anything…?”

Shaking his head slightly, Ryuji gave the helpful stranger a smile that was only slightly forced. “Thanks for the heads-up,” he said, quickly glancing up at the shop name before adding tentatively, “uh, Tatsumi-san?”

“Just Kanji’s fine,” the guy--Kanji--replied with a wave of his hand. “Tatsumi-san’s my ma.”

Kanji glanced upward as well--not at the shop, but rather at the sky--before frowning and adding, “You should probably get a move on, it looks like it’s gonna storm pretty soon. Rain around these parts comes quick and hits hard, and I’m guessin’ you didn’t pack an umbrella.”

Ryuji followed Kanji’s gaze over to the small overnight bag slung over his shoulder, and let out a weak chuckle. “I, uh, wasn’t really thinking too far ahead, to be honest.”

Kanji rolled his eyes in clear amusement. “Hold on a sec,” he said, turning and heading back into the shop before re-emerging a minute later with an umbrella, which he tossed to Ryuji. “Take that in case you get caught in the storm. You won’t be any use to Kurusu if you’re laid up in bed sick, yeah?”

Ryuji caught the umbrella, surprise quickly shifting to gratitude as he gave Kanji a more genuine grin. “Thanks! I’ll drop by tomorrow to give it back!”

“Nah, it’s fine, you can hold onto it. I’ve got plenty more,” Kanji replied, before pointing down the street and adding, “Now c’mon, get going. Just head straight this way, then take a left at the first corner. His place is that huge-ass house down the way, you can’t miss it.”

Ryuji would have at least tried to be a little more insistent on returning the umbrella, if only to be polite, but the first raindrop hitting his head made it clear what his priority needed to be right now.

“Got it! Thanks! See ya!”

With that, Ryuji hastily opened up the umbrella and dashed down the street, hoping to make it to Akira’s house before the rain got too bad.

* * *

Luck, unfortunately, was not on his side.

Even with his track skills under his belt, Ryuji found out the hard way that mother nature was just the one thing he would never be able to outrun--and by the time he made it to Akira’s front porch, despite using the umbrella that Kanji had given him, Ryuji was still completely soaked from the skies abruptly opening up halfway into his run towards Akira’s house.

Ryuji was about to ring the doorbell when a familiar voice startled him, nearly making him jump in place.

“Don’t bother, no one’s home.”

Ryuji turned around to find Morgana crawling out from one of the chairs on the porch, his ears pressed flat against his head and his fur matted with rainwater.

“Dude, what happened to you?” Ryuji asked, dropping his umbrella in favor of crouching down in front of Morgana. “Where’s Akira? Weren’t you with him?”

Morgana shook his head, unable to bring himself to meet Ryuji’s eyes. “I went off on my own yesterday, and when I came back… I couldn’t find him. I searched all over town--”

“Akira’s  _ missing?! _ ”

Morgana winced at Ryuji’s exclamation, shooting a weak glare up at him. “Just shout it to the whole world, why don’t you?” he hissed. “ _ Yes _ , Akira’s missing, and his parents haven’t even been home to  _ notice _ that their son is missing, and no one in town even seems to care that he never showed up for school today, and…,” he trailed off for a moment, whatever fight was left in him draining away as he murmured, “and I’m worried about him. I don’t know where he could have gone. I-- I was hoping maybe he’d just… left for Tokyo, even if it hurt to think that he left me behind--”

“Akira would never do that,” Ryuji interrupted firmly. “You know he’d never leave you behind.”

Morgana searched Ryuji’s face for sincerity, before finally relaxing the slightest bit. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed tentatively. “But then where else could he possibly be…?”

Ryuji let out a frustrated breath. “I dunno… but sitting out here soaked to the bone ain’t gonna solve nothing. Is there, like… a spare key or something, so we can go inside?”

It felt a bit weird to go into Akira’s house when no one was home, like he was breaking in and trespassing or something, but… well, this was technically Morgana’s home now too, right? There was nothing wrong with helping Morgana get back inside--and besides, they were just going to go inside so they could get out of the storm for the night. As soon as the sun came up tomorrow morning, Ryuji was going to scour every last inch of this town for Akira, and he had no doubts that Morgana would be just as eager to continue his search for Akira as well.

As soon as Morgana fished out the spare key from under one of the loose floorboards, Ryuji unlocked the door so the two of them could rush inside, with Morgana leading the way through the unfamiliar house until they reached Akira’s bedroom and bathroom.

Ryuji helped a very-much-reluctant Morgana towel off before setting aside his soaked bag of clothes in favor of rummaging through Akira’s drawers--with a silent apology to Akira, though he knew Akira wouldn’t mind him borrowing some clothes--and taking a clean pair of pajamas with him into the bathroom so he could shower and change.

By the time he exited the bathroom, he could feel exhaustion beginning to hit him, but he forced himself to shake it off as he took out all of his clothes from his bag and laid them out to dry overnight before following Morgana to the kitchen.

“You actually know how to cook?” Morgana asked skeptically as he watched Ryuji begin taking out what little ingredients he could find in the refrigerator.

Ryuji rolled his eyes. “My ma’s usually out late working.  _ Someone’s _ gotta make us some food, or we’d both end up starving or wasting a shitton of money ordering out.”

Morgana hummed thoughtfully, obviously still not fully convinced--but a half hour and a plate of freshly-cooked food later, he was singing a different tune as he praised Ryuji’s cooking, much to Ryuji’s satisfaction.

(He would’ve felt even better about it if Akira was here with them, eating Ryuji’s cooking and gently poking fun at Morgana for changing his opinion so quickly.)

“Any idea if Akira’s parents are gonna be home tonight?” Ryuji asked hesitantly, after the two of them finished inhaling their dinner.

“I don’t know… they go days at a time without coming home, sometimes,” Morgana responded regretfully, his gaze following Ryuji as he cleaned up the kitchen.

Ryuji paused, his heart sinking in his chest. “That means we’re the only ones that know Akira’s missing, then.”

“The only ones that care enough to notice,” Morgana amended--not that the observation made things any better. In fact, it just made both of their moods sour even more than before.

Another moment of silence passed before Morgana spoke up again.

“Not that I’m complaining, but… why are you here, anyway? Akira never mentioned anything about you planning to visit.”

Ryuji sheepishly turned his gaze down to the plate in his hands, scrubbing it for a bit longer than necessary before finally replying, “That’s ‘cuz I wasn’t planning on it. I kinda just… jumped on a train ‘n’ came over. The only one who knows I’m even here is my ma.”

“ _ Seriously? _ You didn’t even tell the team?!”

“I just-- I was worried, okay!” Ryuji turned to face Morgana, the slightest hint of color in his cheeks. “I was worried about Akira, and I thought maybe… maybe I was overthinking things or something, so I didn’t say nothing to no one ‘n’ just… came here to check on him.”

Morgana let out a long sigh. “Well, it’s a good thing that you came when you did, so I’ll let your irresponsible behavior slide just this once. You should really let everyone else know that you’re here, and tell them what’s going on--maybe Futaba can track Akira down, or maybe one of them heard something from him by now.”

Though Ryuji doubted it would be that easy, he did as Morgana suggested, taking out his phone as soon as the last of the dishes were put away and sending a message in the group chat.

It took hardly a few seconds for Ryuji’s phone to start blowing up--to the point where he had to scramble to put it on vibrate so the sound wasn’t echoing through the empty house--and he grimaced as he sat back down at the table to read through everyone’s panicked messages alongside Morgana, who hopped up onto the table and leaned over to look at Ryuji’s phone.

“Great. So not only do none ‘a them know where Akira is, but now they’re all freaking out about him going missing,” Ryuji said with a drawn-out sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Morgana’s ears pressed flat against his head as he weakly glared up at Ryuji. “It was still worth a shot! And you know they would have been more upset if we kept them in the dark about this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ryuji replied, letting out an irritated huff and pocketing his phone as he stood back up. “Sorry. All of this is just so….”

“I know,” Morgana replied, after Ryuji trailed off into silence. “Trust me, I’m just as worried about him as you are--but remember, this is Akira we’re talking about. He’s capable of taking care of himself, no matter where he is.”

“I guess…,” Ryuji muttered reluctantly, even if Morgana’s reassurance didn’t do much to ease the twisting feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Morgana began to walk back towards Akira’s bedroom, gesturing with a nod of his head for Ryuji to follow him.

“We won’t be of any use to Akira like this. Let’s get some sleep, and we’ll figure things out in the morning.”

Ryuji frowned, but reluctantly conceded that Morgana was right: one glance at the time showed that it was already past eleven at night, and between all of Ryuji’s worrying and the long trip to Inaba, his exhaustion was beginning to hit him pretty hard. Regardless of whether or not Akira could handle himself, Ryuji wasn’t going to be able to help him out if he was half-asleep.

Though it felt a bit wrong to take over Akira’s bedroom while Akira wasn’t around, he figured it was at least a bit better than inviting himself into any of the other rooms in the far-too-large (and far-too-empty) house, so he plopped himself down onto Akira’s bed with just the slightest bit of hesitance and pulled the covers up over himself, hardly paying any mind to Morgana curling up on the bed with him.

(He couldn’t begrudge Morgana, nor did he have it in him to even try and tease him about it--he knew that Morgana was taking Akira’s disappearance just as hard as Ryuji himself was, if not more so. Honestly, Ryuji himself was glad he wasn’t alone at the moment, though with the thought came a rush of guilt as he belatedly realized that Akira didn’t have that same luxury of companionship or someone watching his back right now, wherever he was.)

Of course, now that Ryuji was finally laying down in bed, he found himself struggling to actually fall asleep despite his exhaustion: his mind just wouldn’t shut off no matter how many times he tried to assure himself that Akira was  _ fine _ , he was the strongest guy Ryuji knew, he was totally capable of looking after himself, he was the  _ leader of the Phantom Thieves _ , the guy that escaped death more times than Ryuji could count (too many times,  _ too many _ ), the guy that took down a  _ god _ without batting an eye, and it didn’t matter that the Metaverse was gone and that protecting himself wasn’t as easy as summoning a Persona because Akira was strong and sharp and nimble even without the aid of the Metaverse, he would be fine, he had to be fine, he had to be alright enough to hold on for just a little bit longer until Ryuji could find him and bring him back home--

Ryuji was pulled from his panicked, rambling thoughts by a sudden light and a dim sound filling the room, and for a moment he wondered if Akira’s parents had come home and turned on the lights--but no, when he cracked open his eyes with a grimace and squinted to adjust his vision, he found that the source of the light wasn’t from the lights on the ceiling, nor were they from the lights in the hallway.

The light was coming from  _ Akira’s television _ .

“Uh… Morgana…?” Ryuji called out weakly as he swung his legs out of bed and stood up, hesitantly approaching the television that was glowing an eerie yellow and filling the room with the sound of static. “Does Akira’s TV always do this?”

“Hmm…? What are you--”

Morgana’s annoyed grumbling quickly shifted to a startled yelp as he belatedly became aware of the state of the television screen, which was beginning to flicker and shift as if picking up a signal.

“What in the world…?” Morgana questioned, clearly bewildered, as he leapt off of the bed to join Ryuji--which at least answered the question of whether or not this was normal for Akira’s television, though now Ryuji had a whole other slew of questions to take its place, starting with  _ what the actual hell was going on? _

Before Ryuji could open his mouth to try and vocalize his own bewilderment, however, the image on the screen suddenly cleared up to reveal what appeared to be a circus tent surrounded on all sides by a pitch-black forest, complete with an eerily cheery jingle playing in the background.

“ _ Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages! _ ”

Ryuji and Morgana both jumped in unison as a familiar voice suddenly met their ears, followed quickly by the face to match.

Though he was wearing an altered outfit, resembling a ringmaster’s clothes rather than his usual Metaverse outfit, there was no mistaking the white mask covering his face, nor the cocky grin that he wore as he stared straight into the camera.

“ **_Joker?!_ ** ”

“ _ Come one, come all! Step right up to see the one-man show, starring the man of a hundred faces! _ ”

Joker gestured to the tent behind him with a flourish, spinning gracefully as he spoke.

“ _ A man of a hundred faces, you ask? Who could that possibly be? Why, it’s none other than little old me, of course! I’ll be your host, your guide,  _ **_and_ ** _ your source of entertainment this evening! _ ”

With a flick of his wrist, a stack of masks appeared in Joker’s grasp, which he fanned out like a hand full of cards for the audience to see.

“ _ Watch in awe as I change form right before your very eyes: leader, confidant, rival, informant, tool, test subject, scapegoat, and so,  _ **_so_ ** _ much more! _ ”

Joker tossed all of the masks in his hand into the air, snapping his fingers with his other hand--and as if like magic, the masks warped out of existence in the blink of an eye.

“ _ I suppose some of you may be wondering: what could possibly be underneath all of those masks? Well-- _ ”

Joker pulled the mask off of his face, and both Ryuji and Morgana found a shiver of dread running down their spines as Joker’s face shifted and warped, until all that was visible was a black void with glowing, golden eyes.

“ _ If you want to know the truth, you’ll just have to come to the show and see for yourselves, now won’t you? _ ”

With that, Joker returned the mask to his face, which immediately went back to normal as if nothing had been wrong.

“ _ So come on down, don’t wait any longer! _ ”

Joker’s grin widened sharply, his golden eyes staring directly into the camera as if looking straight at Ryuji and Morgana as he spoke.

“ **_It’s showtime!_ ** ”

The television abruptly cut out, leaving Ryuji and Morgana to stand in silence as they stared in stunned shock at the blank screen, the same question running through both of their minds:

What the  _ hell _ was going on…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad that this was pretty much all build-up and that I ended right when it would probably start getting good, but I really don't think I have the time or the energy to properly devote to making this into a full-fledged fic rip;;; So please, by all means, if anyone wants to run with this idea then be my guest!! I'd love to see other people's takes on it ;u;


	7. Day Seven: Free Day (no Metaverse demonic possession AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, digging through my abandoned WIPs for free day and finding one that's somewhat decent: it's free real estate
> 
> Honestly though I started this ages ago, finished everything up to the end of the chapter, and then just... lost all drive to continue it because it felt too rushed and I had no idea what to do next adsfkj this is what happens when you're a writer, no plot only concept lmao;;
> 
> Hopefully it's enjoyable regardless ;u;

Akira was going to die.

He couldn’t exactly blame Sakamoto for accidentally leading him into what was apparently some sort of demonic realm, since he had seemed just as bewildered and freaked out as Akira had felt when they’d stumbled upon a castle where their school should have been, nor did he regret following him--not when Sakamoto’s life was in just as much danger as his own, and not when it would have potentially meant that Sakamoto would have been left to die all alone in a place like this.

And then there was the fact that Sakamoto had tried to cover for him, tried to get the demonic suits of armor and the golden-eyed monster wearing the face of someone Sakamoto called “Kamoshida” to leave Akira alone and let him go.

It hadn’t worked, but it was the first time in months--or ever, really--that anyone had tried so hard to protect him.

Akira just wished he could do something to repay him and protect him in turn.

**_Will you merely stand by and watch?_ **

He jolted at the sudden voice that echoed through his head, powerful and foreign in a way that sent a thrill of fear rushing through him.

Yet despite his terror and confusion, he could feel his very soul vehemently protesting the idea of standing idly by and letting someone die before his eyes--which seemed to be exactly what the voice wanted, as it let out a chuckle that sent a chill down his spine.

**_If you wish to save him and return to your world… vow to me._ **

**_Become my vessel, and I shall lend you my power._ **

Akira tensed, the color draining from his face as he belatedly realized what was happening.

This was… another demon, wasn’t it? Just like the demons standing before him, ready to kill both him and Sakamoto with gleefully sadistic grins on their faces--except this demon speaking to him in his mind was trying to coerce him into giving up his body instead. It was easy to say that he would rather die than let a demon possess him, but considering how both him and Sakamoto really  _ were _ about to die… well, what other choice did he have but to accept? There was no guarantee that the demon would actually lend him its power, but if he didn’t take this risk, then his and Sakamoto’s deaths were assured.

At least if he did this, there was a small chance of them surviving--or at the very least, of Sakamoto surviving, so long as Akira could manage to save him and get him out of this world before the formless demon did whatever it wanted to do with his body.

Someone who was willing to put themselves in danger to protect a criminal like him didn’t deserve to die in a place like this. If this was what Akira had to do to repay Sakamoto for the small bit of kindness that he’d shown him, then so be it.

Akira’s voice was soft yet unwavering in his determination as he spoke.

“Do whatever you want with me--just give me the power to get him out of here.”

**_Excellent._ **

Akira could hear the demon’s laughter as a breeze began to pick up around him, blue flames dancing through the air and catching the attention of both Sakamoto and the demon posing as Kamoshida--though if that hadn’t been enough to get their attention, the screams of pain that suddenly tore their way out of Akira’s throat as his head began to feel like it was splitting in two certainly would have.

**_I have heeded your resolve._ **

**_Of all the humans I’ve seen, you are unlike any other--you shall make an excellent host._ **

**_Now, show me the strength of your will, and break free from the chains binding you to Hell!_ **

Akira felt the demon’s power building inside of him, an inferno of heat and darkness that would burn him alive without any outlet--and he wasted no time in channeling the power outward on instinct, incinerating the two suits of armor keeping him pinned to the wall until there was nothing left of them but ashes.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes glowing red as the pain simmered down and a powerful presence took its place in the back of his mind.

So long as Sakamoto remained unharmed, he couldn’t bring himself to care what this demon decided to do with his body--and so he didn’t fight the loss of control as he felt the demon manipulating his body like a puppet on strings in order to take out the remaining suits of armor that tried and failed to attack him, before turning his gaze over to the demonic imitation of Kamoshida who was attempting to flee the room.

“Attempting” being the key word.

“ _ And where do you think  _ **_you’re_ ** _ going, hm? _ ” the demon taunted, speaking through Akira as he took slow, languid steps towards Kamoshida, like a predator approaching its next prey.

Kamoshida was reduced to a trembling, panicking mess as he lost his balance, falling to the ground and pathetically scrambling backwards as he tried to put some distance between himself and the powerful demon closing in on him.

“ _ P-please, I-- I didn’t know these humans were yours, I’ll never touch them again, just please don’t kill me-- _ ”

“ _ Yes, that’s right, _ ” the demon responded, glancing over at Sakamoto with a smirk and enjoying the hint of protest in his gaze despite his obvious fear. “ _ These humans are mine, and I don’t appreciate a disgusting, lowly worm like yourself so much as breathing the same air as them. _ ”

Power built up around Akira, his smirk widening into a dark, sadistic grin--by his own volition or the demon’s, it was hard to say. It felt like the demon’s emotions and thoughts were intertwining with his own, until he couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended.

All he knew was that it felt  _ damn _ good, looking down on someone instead of being looked down on for a change.

Kamoshida looked like he was seconds away from passing out in sheer terror from the pressure that filled the room, dark energy pulsing off of Akira’s body in waves that reached every corner of the room--save for where Sakamoto sat, though even the slightest hints of the raw power occasionally brushing harmlessly past him were enough to pull tremors of instinctive fear from him.

Whatever had possessed Akira, it was clearly more powerful than any of them, and possibly more powerful than anyone or anything in this entire world.

No one could say that for sure more so than Akira, who could feel for himself that this was just a small taste of the demon’s true power, the rest being kept under lock and key for reasons unknown to him.

After relishing Kamoshida’s fear for a few more moments, the demon waved Akira’s arm, and a burst of dark energy rushed past Kamoshida, demolishing the entirety of the entrance to the cell behind him.

“ _ If I see you near either of these two ever again, I won’t be as merciful, _ ” the demon warned Kamoshida, who wasted no time in scrambling to his feet and stumbling away as fast as his legs would carry him.

The demon watched him flee, making sure he was gone before turning his attention over to Sakamoto, who glared up at him shakily in return.

“What the hell did you do to him?!” he barked out, stubbornly trying to force his body to rise to his feet despite every instinct screaming at him to just stay down and keep as far away as possible.

The demon chuckled, the sound making Sakamoto’s irritation flare even more, though any other arguments he might have made were cut off with a choked noise as Akira’s hand reached out to gently grip him by the chin, his glowing red gaze examining Sakamoto with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

“ _ You have a fire in your eyes, even after all this, _ ” the demon commented, ignoring Sakamoto’s question and smirking as he added, “ _ How intriguing. It’s rare to find one human with the spirit of rebellion burning so strongly within them, let alone two at once. _ ”

Sakamoto swatted Akira’s hand away, his face flushed. “I don’t give a damn about whatever the hell you’re talking about--just give him his body back!”

“ _ I’m afraid I can’t do that. _ ”

“And why the hell not?!”

The demon raised an eyebrow. “ _ Because this body is no longer ‘his’. He willingly offered it to me, in exchange for assuring your safety. _ ”

Sakamoto deflated at that, stunned shock replacing his irritation. “He… for me? F-for real? But-- but why?”

“ _ I reached out to him and offered him power, and that was his condition. So long as I gave him the power to get you out of this place safely, he cared not what I did with him--and his feelings remain the same, even now. _ ”

“W-- wait, so he’s still--?!”

“ _ Alive? _ ” The demon blinked, looking momentarily confused. “ _ I don’t recall ever saying anything to the contrary. _ ”

Sakamoto pointed at him accusingly. “You said that his body wasn’t his anymore!”

“ _ I did, _ ” the demon agreed, amusement quickly taking the place of confusion. “ _ That does not mean I erased his existence. He is still conscious and aware of everything, and has been since the moment I took control of him--now if you wish for me to  _ **_relinquish control_ ** _ to him, I am willing and able to do so, but keep in mind: _ ” his expression darkened, a shiver of dread running down Sakamoto’s spine in response, “ _ this body will never be his, so long as I remain alive. _ ”

Guilt and rage churned Sakamoto’s stomach as he glared at the demon. “Then we’ll just find a way to get rid of you.”

The demon chuckled. “ _ You certainly are an amusing human. I look forward to continuing to observe you and my host. _ ”

Before Sakamoto could open his mouth to spit out a response--that he was dead fucking serious, that he didn’t want some demon  _ observing _ him like a creep--the red glow in Akira’s eyes faded along with the oppressive aura around him, leaving Akira (the  _ actual _ Akira, not the cocky asshole demon using his body) blinking blearily and swaying in place in clear exhaustion.

“H-hey, dude, are you okay?!” Sakamoto asked worriedly, reaching out to steady him.

“I’m… I’m fine,” Akira replied, taking a moment to wait for his head to stop pounding before letting out a quiet breath and straightening up.

“I’m fine,” he repeated more firmly this time, his gaze softening slightly in concern as he looked Sakamoto over. “What about you, though? Are you hurt?”

Sakamoto’s mouth opened and closed, his expression completely bewildered. “You-- are you for real? Y-you just… you got  _ possessed _ and you’re asking if  **_I’m_ ** okay?!”

Akira shrugged. “It’s not so bad--I mean, aside from the first bit of head-splitting agony when he possessed me, but,” he waved a hand flippantly, “it passed, so I’m fine.” With a more serious expression, he added, “As long as you’re safe, I have no regrets. I couldn’t just stand by and watch you get killed, not if there was something I could do to help you.”

“Dude….” Sakamoto stared at Akira incredulously, before shaking his head with a weak laugh. “I dunno if you’re crazy or just a stupidly selfless guy, but… regardless, I don’t think I could ever thank you enough.” He clapped a hand down on Akira’s shoulder, his expression serious. “I know I’ll never be able to make this up to you, but the least I can do is have your back from here on out.”

Akira nodded, giving Sakamoto a small, appreciative smile. “You don’t have to make anything up to me, but thank you.” With a glance behind him at the broken cell entrance, he added, “We should really get going. The demon scared off all those other guys, but there’s no guarantee that more won’t show up.”

_ What’s your name, anyway? _ Akira asked inwardly, knowing that the demon was listening to everything.  _ If you’re going to be staying as a… permanent resident in my body, I at least want to have something to call you other than ‘demon’. _

A quiet chuckle echoed through his mind in response.  **_You certainly are an intriguing human… no one has dared speak my name for centuries, yet here you are, asking for such dangerous information for such a simple reason._ **

_ Dangerous information? _

**_Names hold power for demons--you would do well to remember that,_ ** the demon warned him.  **_Though if you would like a name to refer to me by… I suppose I have grown partial to the alias Arsène._ **

_ Arsène… like the thief? _ Akira questioned curiously.

**_Indeed,_ ** the demon--Arsène--responded with no small hint of amusement.  **_The tales you humans craft are quite entertaining._ **

Akira blinked, pulling himself from his conversation with Arsène as he saw Sakamoto waving a hand in front of his eyes.

“Dude, you alright? You just… blanked out ‘n’ started staring into space.”

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine, sorry. I was just talking with the demon,” he responded, paying no mind to Sakamoto blanching in response to his casual confession. “He goes by the name Arsène, apparently.”

Sakamoto ran a hand through his hair. “W-well, uh… ‘s long as you’re okay.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Are you sure you should be, like…  _ talking _ with the demon like it’s nothing?”

Akira shrugged, turning to head for the cell’s exit. “If he’s going to be in my head from now on, I might as well at least stay on friendly terms with him.”

“ _ Friendly _ \--?!” Sakamoto choked out, rushing after Akira and observing him for a moment before letting out a breathless, incredulous laugh. “Dude, you’re seriously something else.”

Akira shot him a small, amused smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” Sakamoto replied, nudging him lightly with his shoulder as they walked. “Speaking of names, though… I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself in all of that craziness: my name’s Ryuji Sakamoto. Just Ryuji’s fine, though--I think we’re way past all that formal crap, ‘specially after you just saved my life,” he joked.

Akira chuckled. “True. In that case… my name is Akira Kurusu, but you can call me Akira.”

“Akira, huh… well, wish it was under better circumstances, but glad to meet you all the same.” Sakamoto--no,  _ Ryuji _ \--grinned and gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Now c’mon, let’s figure out how to get the hell out of this creepy place already.”

Akira nodded in agreement, and the two of them picked up their pace as they began to search for an exit that would--hopefully--take them out of this demonic realm and bring them back home.

* * *

To Akira's surprise, Arsène was actually kind enough to guide them to a rift that would bring them back home--and Akira couldn't even bring himself to mind the few times that the demon took control of his body without warning, not when each time it was done to scare off the other demons crawling around in the shadows of this twisted space, looking to attack the two humans wandering around.

Ryuji, on the other hand, seemed to mind enough for the two of them if his wary glares were any indication, though this just seemed to amuse Arsène instead of offend him.

**_Just go through that doorway, and you should return to your world._ **

Akira nodded in response to the demon’s instructions and headed for the doorway in question with Ryuji on his heels.

“Arsène said the exit is through here,” Akira explained as he came to a stop in front of the door and rested a hand on the doorknob. “You ready?”

“I was ready to get the hell out of here the minute we ended up in this nightmare,” Ryuji replied wryly, before putting a hand on Akira’s shoulder and bracing himself. “Let’s go.”

Akira nodded and opened the door, immediately feeling the difference between this room and everywhere else in this twisted castle--and as soon as they stepped through, their surroundings began to twist and shift until, to their relief, the streets of Shibuya appeared.

“We’re finally out of that crazy place…,” Ryuji breathed out, nearly collapsing as he leaned against the nearest wall.

“Looks like it,” Akira agreed, before grimacing as he glanced down at the time and adding, “and we’re late for school.”

Ryuji shot Akira a bewildered look. “Dude, are you seriously worried about school after we just got out of some crazy, demonic world?”

“I’m on probation.”

“Oh, fuck.” Ryuji quickly straightened up and grabbed Akira’s arm, tugging him along. “Well what are we waiting for? Let’s go! We’ll think up an excuse on the way there!”

Akira blinked and let himself be pulled along, only partially surprised by the laughter he heard in his head.

**_He’s lively, that one._ **

_ You’re still here? _ Akira asked.

**_Of course. Our contract bound us together; your body and soul are mine, no matter where you go._ **

Akira hummed quietly in thought.  _ But you aren’t going to do anything? You’re just going to watch us? _

**_Are you complaining?_ **

_ No, I'm just checking. Like I told Ryuji, I’m on probation, and I don’t think the guy looking after me for this year will appreciate a demon running amok and causing trouble in my body, _ Akira replied wryly, prompting more laughter from Arsène.

**_No, I suppose not,_ ** the demon conceded.  **_Fear not, for that was never my intention to begin with. I merely desired a vessel--and with it, a connection to the human world._ **

_ To do what, dare I ask? _

**_Nothing you need worry about,_ ** Arsène assured him with a chuckle.

Akira sighed, but let the matter go--not that he completely trusted the demon, but he figured that so long as the demon agreed to not cause trouble using his body, then that was the best he could ask for.

Instead, he turned his attention over to Ryuji, who--to Akira's embarrassment--had been talking to him while he was distracted.

"--or maybe we can say the trains broke down and we were stuck underground for a few hours?"

"Wouldn't something like that end up on the news, though?" Akira asked, prompting a groan from Ryuji.

"Shit, you're right…. Do you have any ideas? We're almost there; we've gotta come up with something quick."

"We could just say I got sick on the way to school, and you stayed with me until it passed," Akira suggested.

"Oh." Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand sheepishly. "Didn't even think of something like that. I guess something simple would be better than making up a crazy story."

Akira nodded in agreement before giving Ryuji a small smile. "I appreciate you trying so hard to help me out, though. Thank you."

Ryuji blushed and shrugged modestly, a smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. "Dude, after what you did to save me? This is nothing." His smile widened as he added, "I told'ja I'd have your back no matter what, and I meant it."

Akira's expression softened, but he wasn't given the chance to respond before the school--the real school, not some crazy demonic castle counterpart--came into view, with a familiar face looking down at them from atop the stairs.

“Sakamoto!” Kamoshida called out, wearing a plastic grin on his face that quickly died down in confusion as he eyed Akira. “And… hm, you’re a new face. Kurusu the transfer student, if I’m not mistaken?”

Ryuji let go of Akira’s arm as he glared openly at Kamoshida, his hands balled into fists--but thankfully he otherwise held his tongue and his temper in check, apparently realizing it would only cause more trouble for him to start yelling about everything Kamoshida’s demonic counterpart had done to them.

Akira, meanwhile, observed Kamoshida with a pensive frown, his curiosity growing as Arsène made a thoughtful noise in the back of his mind.

**_I see. I had a feeling that’s what this was._ **

Akira wasn’t given the chance to question Arsène before Kamoshida’s voice broke through his thoughts, reprimanding both him and Ryuji for being late--and though Akira wanted to just use the lie they’d come up with and slip past him so he could go back to keeping his head down and getting through the year, the demeaning way that he spoke to both him and Ryuji made an indignant irritation flare up inside of him, a feeling that was mirrored by Arsène as he took over.

Ryuji opened his mouth to try and shut Kamoshida up, consequences be damned, when--to his surprise--Kamoshida  _ did _ shut up, the color suddenly draining from his face as he mouth snapped shut and his eyes widened in clear panic.

Glancing over at Akira, Ryuji was only slightly surprised to find his eyes glowing red--and though it felt like an eternity that the two held each other’s gazes, it was hardly a few seconds before the corner of Akira’s lips quirked up into a smirk, prompting the most pathetic noise Ryuji had ever heard Kamoshida make as he literally quaked in fear.

As much as he couldn’t stand the cocky demon, Ryuji had to admit he was enjoying the demon’s handiwork right about now. He had no idea what Arsène was doing to Kamoshida, but  _ man _ did it feel good to see that bastard looking like he was two seconds away from pissing himself in terror.

He was in a good enough mood that he didn’t even bother to fight Arsène when Akira’s hand came to rest on his lower back, guiding him up the stairs and away from Kamoshida’s body that was still frozen in place in fear.

“What the hell did you  _ do _ to him?” Ryuji hissed once they were out of Kamoshida’s earshot, trying and failing to keep the vindictively gleeful awe out of his tone and expression.

“ _ Nothing _ ,” Arsène replied, a smirk still on his face. “ _ All I needed to do was show myself to remind that parasitic demon of my threat. _ ”

“Wait, para-what?”

Arsène chuckled, but before Ryuji could so much as glare at the demon for laughing at him, Arsène suddenly took his hand in Akira’s and gestured for him to look back at Kamoshida.

“ _ Open your mind, and I will show you. _ ”

Ryuji still didn’t trust Arsène--he was a demon, he’d taken advantage of Ryuji’s and Akira’s near-death situation to steal Akira’s body for himself, and he could tell even from their few limited interactions that he was an overall smug, irritating, dangerously-powerful asshole--but even he had to admit by now that the demon had no intentions of harming him. Whether it was because that was part of his  _ contract _ with Akira or whatever they were calling it, or because the demon had taken a liking to him as he claimed… well, Ryuji had no idea, nor was he sure he would ever truly figure out what the demon was thinking--but regardless, he figured he could at least give an inch just this once, if only because he felt that he deserved to know what the hell was going on with Kamoshida after everything that bastard had put him through.

He gave Arsène a small nod and glanced back at Kamoshida, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t see nothing--”

“ _ Give it a moment, _ ” Arsène replied--and suddenly, Ryuji could feel a warmth spreading from his hand, up his arm, all the way to his head and behind his eyes that were suddenly  _ burning _ \--

Ryuji cursed and tried to pull away from the demon, but Arsène kept a tight grip on his hand, and he moved Akira’s other hand to cover Ryuji’s eyes for a moment before pulling back once the burning settled into a dull throbbing.

“ _ Now look. _ ”

Ryuji would have loved to curse Arsène out for whatever the  _ hell _ he’d done to him, except he was distracted by his sudden double-vision that took a few blinks to clear, and then when it  _ did _ clear he wished it hadn’t because  _ what the fuck was that  _ **_thing_ ** _ on Kamoshida’s back? _

It was grotesque, almost to the point of making Ryuji physically gag just from looking at it: the  _ thing _ was a semi-transparent, light red gelatinous mass with black veins that dug straight into Kamoshida’s body, clinging to him like some sort of gigantic, monstrous leech that continuously pulsated and squirmed, each movement resulting in disgusting squelching noises that made Ryuji’s stomach turn.

Anticipating Ryuji’s exclamation, Arsène moved Akira’s hand to cover Ryuji’s mouth, muffling the panicked curses that Ryuji was letting out.

“ _ That is the parasitic demon’s physical form, _ ” Arsène explained quietly. “ _ Such an ugly creature, tainting this space with its influence. _ ”

Ryuji tore his gaze away from the sight, only to pale as he looked down the hallway to find what had to be  _ millions _ of those “parasitic demons” sliding around in miniature form, each one hardly a centimeter or two big: on the floors, on the walls, on the windows, on the  _ ceiling _ … it was like the school was  _ infested _ , and no one but him and Akira knew it.

He yelped and frantically kicked out at one that came too close to him, only to let out a relieved sigh when it burst into flames in time with Arsène waving a hand in its direction.

“ _ They won’t be able to touch you, don’t worry, _ ” Arsène assured him. “ _ Of course, I won’t allow them to even if they try, but you’ve been naturally repelling them on your own, simply by denying the host’s authority. He holds no power over you, and so the parasite’s offspring have nothing to latch onto. _ ”

“For real?”

Arsène smirked. “ _ I told you, did I not? The spirit of rebellion burns strongly within you. You have more power than you realize. _ ”

Ryuji huffed, trying to cover up his embarrassment with annoyance as he attempted to tug his hand free of Arsène’s grip. “Okay, fine, I get it--now can you turn this shit off and let go already? I don’t care if those things can’t touch me, they’re still creepy as hell to look at.”

“ _ Of course, _ ” Arsène replied with a quiet chuckle as he released Ryuji’s hand, and Ryuji was so relieved to feel the dull throbbing behind his eyes fading in time with his vision clearing up that he couldn’t even muster up an annoyed look in response to the demon’s clear amusement.

_ Not to interrupt, _ Akira spoke up within his mind, as Arsène continued to observe Ryuji, _ but Ryuji and I really need to get to class before it gets any later. _

**_Ah, yes. I apologize; I couldn’t help but indulge his curiosity. He has such entertaining reactions._ **

(Akira couldn’t exactly disagree, though it was hard to say whether it was because of the demon’s own feelings influencing his own or because he really was amused by how  _ honest _ Ryuji was. Regardless, he could at least say that he definitely thought it was pretty cute how Ryuji wore his emotions so openly and reacted to everything so earnestly.)

By the time Ryuji had rubbed the supernatural-magic-whatever out of his eyes, Arsène had relinquished control to Akira, much to Ryuji’s relief.

“You okay?” Ryuji checked, concern clear in his gaze.

Akira fought to keep a blush from heating up his cheeks in response.

Yeah, Ryuji’s honesty was definitely cute. Hardly a day in and this guy had Akira wrapped around his finger, without even realizing it.

Arsène’s laughter in the back of his mind was unwelcome, but not exactly unexpected.

“I’m fine,” Akira replied, giving Ryuji a small, reassuring smile as he added, “We really need to hurry and get to class, but why don’t we talk some more after school?”

“Ah, shit, I forgot-- yeah, that’s fine! Let’s hurry, and we can meet up on the roof later!”

Akira barely had the chance to agree before Ryuji began tugging him along by the arm, leading the way to the faculty room so Akira could figure out what classroom he had to go to, all without Akira even needing to ask him for directions.

Not that Akira minded, of course. Even if he was stuck in Tokyo for a year for less than great reasons, and even if he’d already almost gotten killed (and gotten possessed by a literal demon) less than a week into his stay in this far-too-large and loud city, having met and befriended someone as kind and loyal as Ryuji made everything feel worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that marks the end of yet another year of Pegoryu week! I love participating in these events and reading what everyone else comes up with, it's always so much fun ;u;
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, kudo'd, commented, bookmarked, or even just popped in to take a quick look!! <3


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